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Fandom: Atlantis
Title: Belonging
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Category: Angst, thoughts, smut (See Jem! I can
do it!)
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Rating: If you’re old enough to have sex, you’re old enough to read this.
NC-17 in the old system.
Summary: He’s not normally a hearts and flowers kind of guy, but for her, he just might
be.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song’s not
mine either.
Author’s notes: It should, I suppose, concern me that, as a woman, I find it easier to write for John
rather than Elizabeth… It doesn’t, enjoy! Thanks to Mel, even though she wont read it.
Date: 21/08/05
Copyright
© to Venom, 2005
***
We belong to the light
We belong to the thunder
We belong to the sound of the words,
We’ve both fallen under
Whatever we deny or embrace
For worse or for better
We belong,
We belong
We
belong together.
***
She almost called him Simon, the first time.
The name had been on the tip of her
tongue as her orgasm swelled within her. It was habitual, she supposed, born out of years with the same man. Not that there
was anything wrong with that. Simon really was the representation of a fairytale romance. He was safe, stable, reliable, everything
that a girl should want.
The complete opposite of John.
Elizabeth didn’t think that she would call John
dangerous, per se, but he certainly wasn’t the safest of men she’d ever met. He was everything that she thought
she could never want. And yet, she had still bedded him that first night, just a few months into their stay with Atlantis.
Stay.
She almost laughed at herself. Her mind had a nice way of putting a pretty spin on their current living
arrangements. Like it was a holiday that they would be returning home from soon. The reality of their situation was that,
no matter what her mind wanted to think, they were probably going to be in the city for a long time to come.
It had
hurt, at first. Thinking of dear, sweet Simon at home, waiting for her, keeping her Dog company in a house that was far too
big for just one person.
But then she’d taken John into her body and her bed, and it didn’t hurt quite
as much any more.
Elizabeth wasn’t stupid and she had entertained the notion of her and John, usually in the
dark of night while she was lying awake, unable to sleep. She had imagined at first that if she and John ended up together
– in the biblical sense only – that it would be after some crisis had rocked their little corner of the Pegasus
Galaxy. Maybe she was a cynic, but she’d anticipated loss of life, a near death experience, extreme torture, or all
of the above to be the catalyst of her infidelity.
The only thing she hadn’t anticipated was lust.
Pure,
simple, straightforward, good old-fashioned lust.
He was a man, she was a woman.
She wanted him, he wanted
her, end of story.
Only, it wasn’t.
When, that first time, Simon’s name had been on her lips, Elizabeth
had know that regardless of the wonderfully talented man above – and in – her that she wouldn’t do
it again. She couldn’t let them do this. They had people to protect, people who trusted them to be professional and
not concerned with their own raging libidos.
They had a duty to be responsible. And they both knew it.
Simple.
But
still… The second time had been in one of the rooms they used for storage. Simon’s name hadn’t even entered
her thoughts as John had pushed into her, one hand on her breast the other holding her hip. She had kissed him desperately,
biting back the scream that threatened to burst from within her.
“We can’t do this.” She had whispered
brokenly.
“I know.” He’d agreed, continuing to thrust into her as she clutched at his back.
Perhaps,
she mused, the problem wasn’t that they *couldn’t* stop, so much as they didn’t *want* too. And that, Elizabeth
knew, was a problem in itself.
She was over-thinking this, she knew that too.
They had only been together
twice – thrice, technically – and here she was, mulling over the situation in her head a thousand times, hoping
that she would come up with an alternate outcome. They couldn’t continue this, but she didn’t want to give it
up.
John was more than a warm body for her and she knows that’s what frightens her the most.
***
He
suspects that she’s scared.
Scared of what a relationship with him would entail – he isn’t really
cut out to be anyone’s knight in shining armor – or maybe she’s just scared of admitting that she might
like him for more than what his body can make her feel. He knows about Simon, about the life that she has on Earth, waiting
for her.
It doesn’t make him want her any less, but he wishes that it did.
John really, really wishes
that he understood what she was thinking. About them, about Atlantis, hell, about what she had for breakfast would do him.
He likes her, he knows that. He’s probably got the first tinges of love clouding his vision when it comes to
her, he knows that too. He knows that he likes her naked – he knew that he would the second that he saw her –
and he knows that he loves the way she feels around him. He knows he wants to be with her, to share her bed and her life.
He wants to be able to fall asleep holding her and wake up in the same position. He wants to he able to hold her full stop.
He’s
not normally a hearts and flowers kind of guy, but for her, he just might be.
Standing in the corridor at a ridiculously
late hour, knocking on her door, John thinks that it’s quite possible he’s never been this nervous in his life
before.
It doesn’t take her long to answer and he’s half-grateful for that and half-ready to wet himself.
“Hi.”
He
wishes that he had an excuse for being here – something other than the simple desire to see her and be near her and
smell her because, God, what kind of perfume is that? “Hey.”
“Do you want to come in?”
“Yeah.”
She
stands back for him, but not far enough and he feels the slight curves of her body brush against his own. It’s not much
in the way of contact, but it’s more than enough to turn him into a bundle of hormones.
“Something on your
mind, John?” Elizabeth says his name like a whisper and John doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to hear her
say it again without getting the image of her naked, beneath him, crying out.
“You, actually.”
“Oh.”
“We
can’t do this, can we?” He asks, echoing her words from the previous day.
“No, we really can’t.”
John
bites his lip, wondering what to do now. He knows that they can’t do this, she knows it, they’ve agreed on it
for god’s sake. And yet… “Then why do I want to?”
“I don’t know.” She takes
a deep breath and her chest rises and falls with the movement. He watches the automatic act with a little too much interest.
“But I want to as well.”
Sigh. “Look, this is insane. We both know that this can’t happen,
it won’t work and it would be stupid of us to try and loose our friendship and our working relationship. Not to mention
what would happen when everyone else in the City found out, which they would. God, could you imagine what they would sa-“
He doesn’t get to finish before she’s pretty much launched herself into his arms.
Her lips make contact
with his and the force of the impact is enough to push him back into the wall, her body following. The wall is hard against
his shoulder blades, but he can’t bring himself to care when her tongue finds his and her hands hold his face.
It
doesn’t take them long to rid each other of their uniforms, just like the two times previous. He wonders if they’ll
ever be able to take it slow, but he doesn’t complain.
She is more than enough, and he’ll take her any
way that he can have her.
***
Elizabeth is already panting by the time they make it to the bed, her body close
to the edge, driven by his light touches and warm mouth. He is cradled between her legs, the fat heat of his penis rubbing
teasingly along her folds. “John…”
“I know.”
She doesn’t want to beg. “Please.”
But she’s certainly not above it.
Her breath catches in her throat as he slides into her, his eyes never leaving
hers. For a long, drawn out moment, neither of them moves. Their eyes are locked and Elizabeth wishes that she didn’t
feel quite so much right now. She can read everything that he’s thinking, everything that he’s feeling in his
eyes. She imagines that he can see the same in hers.
When he does move, his thrusts are short, they aren’t going
to last long. There’s too much emotion behind their movements, but she doesn’t let herself think about it as her
legs wind themselves up and around him.
It only takes a few strokes, the deeper penetration is enough for her before
she’s clutching at him harder and crying out loudly, his name coming from her in a keening wail. The intense pressure
that had been steadily building within her lower abdomen gives way to a sweet rush of feelings. Elizabeth can hear the blood
circulating loudly through her system, running fast and hard in a steady rhythm that matches her breathing.
John isn’t
far behind her, swelling inside of her before the rush of fluid leaves him, calling her name even as he collapses against
her.
They’re both sweaty, bodies sticking together and the smell of sex is pungent in the air. He is heavy on
top of her, she knows they will have to move soon, he’s softening inside of her, but she doesn’t want to separate
from him. There’ll be a wet spot later, but she doesn’t care. He can sleep in it, if… “Stay.”
“Of
course.”
***
And then they done teh sex. Again. You get the idea.
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